No Man Left Behind: A Veteran Inspired Charity Anthology by Elizabeth Knox (black authors fiction TXT) 📕

ladies. Affection and love my own mother never gave us, and seeing that it was real and obtainable, I wished someday for someone to love me like that.

I was working on making dinner when I heard the back door open. Turning, I saw Jacob walk inside, his size smaller than an average nine-year-old. Dalton was the same way when he was little and now I’m dwarfed by him, so I wasn’t worried, but I hated how he was picked on for his size. I knew some of his anger was directed at our shitty mother and the way she died, and often I caught the brunt of his frustrations.

Expecting another argument about why he was late getting home from school, I noticed he was unusually quiet and withdrawn and immediately knew there was a problem. Jacob was an active little boy who would talk your ear off about anything and everything.

“Jacob? Are you okay?” I asked, setting the spoon down and slowly walking to him.

He turned, his blue eyes filled with tears, and it was then I noticed the red drops of blood covering his clothes and face. Rushing to him, I fell to my knees and tried to inspect him for injuries, only to have him pull away from me and step back.

“Jacob. What . . . what happen? Are you hurt?”

He shook his head and a tear fell onto his face. He swiped it away embarrassingly, streaking the blood below his eye, and I gently reached my hand out to him. Jacob linked his fingers with mine and I pulled him to me, not caring if I got blood on my clothes.

“Will you tell me what happened?” I whispered, and he shook his head again. “Will you tell Dalton?”

He nodded quickly, still silent, and I released my hold on him reluctantly. Looking into his soft blue eyes, I spoke softly, “Let’s get you cleaned up and we can go find him.” He shook his head again. “Do you want to go right now?” He nodded, causing another tear to fall, and I fought my own. “Let me grab my purse and we’ll go to the clubhouse.”

I got him secured into my old beater car and headed toward the clubhouse, unsure if they would even let us in. I hadn’t been there since I was a teenager and from what I remembered; it was always a loud party with liquor flowing and plenty of willing women. Worried about what we would walk into, I sent Dalton and Uncle Mick a message letting them know I was on the way to the clubhouse.

The Death Hounds compound was over forty acres of land situated less than a mile from the only entrance to the Flats. They were the barrier between trouble and boredom. The road leading into the Flats was exactly like I remembered, and the closer we got, the higher my anxiety got. My life there was a horror show and from an early age, I knew to avoid Marco and anyone who was associated with him.

He peddled the drugs, ran the prostitutes, enforced his laws, and he was brutal to anyone who crossed him. Trying to keep my head down, I locked us inside at night and made sure to never be out alone. I made that mistake when I was fifteen and I carry the scars on my body to this day. No one had ever seen them but Uncle Mick. I made sure of that, and now that I’m getting closer to my nightmare than I’ve been in years, I’m fighting the need to take Jacob and run. I heard rumors Marco was dead, but the fear was still present and overtaking my rational brain.

I see the lights from the compound up ahead and I glance over to see Jacob staring out the window, silent and trembling.

“We’ll be there in a minute. You doing okay over there?” I asked, a noticeable tremor in my voice.

He whispered, “I’m okay,” and I exhaled a deep breath.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, fighting my sweaty palms, I turned into the driveway and stopped the car at the ten-foot-tall gate blocking the entrance. A prospect walked out of the little house and placed his hand on his gun as he approached the car.

“What’s your business here, darlin? You looking for a good time?” he asked, peering into the car and down to my chest.

I looked down and realized I left the house in my comfy shorts and a tank-top under my t-shirt with no bra. This was not the way I wanted to walk into the club for the first time in years, my hair tossed into a messy ponytail, no makeup, and a pair of flip-flops. Tugging my shirt, hoping to cover myself, I leaned into the window and whispered.

“I need to see Dalton. Shit, Skid. I need to see Skid.”

“He’s already got enough sluts warming his bed tonight, darlin. Why don’t you come back another time and leave the kid with a sitter.” He chuckled, glancing at Jacob who was stretching to see inside, his entire body trembling.

“Listen, asshole. Tell Skid his brother and sister are here and it’s an emergency,” I yelled, fighting the tears that were quickly building in my eyes.

“Sadie?” he asked, and I nodded, the tears overflowing from my eyes.

“Shit, girl. My bad. You should have said so. Let me get the gate for you. Heads up, it’s crazy in there tonight,” the nameless prospect said and pulled the gate open, revealing the raging party underway.

I pulled the car into a space immediately next to the gate, hoping to make a quick getaway after Jacob explained why he was covered in blood. He’s a good kid and I don’t think he hurt someone, but I needed to know exactly what happened so I could protect him from whatever blowback would come at us. No matter what, I would protect both my brothers, like I’d done my entire life.

As soon as the car stopped, Jacob unhooked his